


Raw and Exposed

by Bitsybonbon



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Colemance, F/M, Human!Cole, Non-Explicit Sex, PWP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-09 22:33:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4366727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bitsybonbon/pseuds/Bitsybonbon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His movements are based off touch, not expertise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

His hands hold her wrists, not pulling, not gripping, simply holding her arms closer to him. Would that he could hold her hands, entwine their fingers, were her nails not scratching at the sheets beneath her. He is gasping, silently wailing with an open mouth. This is—a lot for him. Almost too much. But he would stop if it truly were, as had been agreed, and he did not, so he lay there with her, in her, hips against hips.

 

His knees dig into the mattress and her legs curl over his thighs, and she curls into him. He is a hunched shape in the dark, a shadowed curve above her. Brows knitted, eyes lidded, he exhaustively thrusts back into her as hard as they can stand it. When he is able he forms run-on sentences; a mess of words to the unknowing that struck chords within her and throbbed like the rest of her.

“’Throbbing, treasuring, cherishing, ravishing my body. He knows each spot, every part; raw and exposed, for him’.”

 

She shudders, clenches, and bites her lip to keep from crying out or perhaps simply crying. She melted, forgot herself and remembered him. His movements inexperienced, based entirely on feeling and no technique, there is only his pleasure that drives him, into her. His teeth never stay still, first on his lips, then clenched together, and his face is constantly tensing and relaxing with him.

She never stops watching him. She can’t, and he would never let her. He is slick with sweat, both his and hers, and she is dripping underneath him, staining her blankets, their thighs. Her heart is soaring, her heat is swelling, and she is shaking and he is relentless, tirelessly pumping and he is _singeing her_ —

“Cole,” she breathes, blinking furiously, eyes watering, “Cole, I think—I think I might—”

“You are,” he rasps, and his fingers slip up her arms and loop behind her, knotting at the knuckles and raising her up to him. They are bare, flesh to flesh, and she is in his lap being held so tightly she can’t ever recall being apart from him.

Cole is coming undone, his hands buried, locked, in her hair and around her waist, and she is tightening and weeping on him, her breath is just a keen, a sweet song in his ears. His words fall before ever completed, tumbling over his lolling tongue, and could she see through her haze she’d know how his eyes are welling with tears and stars.

 

One more pulse, and they burst, open at the seams and gasping.

They are tight as bowstrings on, in, around each other, losing their place in the world and finding it in one another, before crumbling to pieces and being whole again.

He is whispering again with the bit of breath he has left, stuttering so sweetly and his fingers never still. Her hands release his shoulders to caress his back, between the blades and down the spine as he likes.

“Moaning, meaning behind the murmurs, stories in the shivers. Never stop, never stopping again. ‘He loves me as I love him.’”


	2. Chapter 2

Her breath freezes in the hall and shatters with his voice, crawling throughout her body in the form of wracking shudders. He is no louder than the moonlight that creeps through the walls; “You want to be treated badly, very well, even if you’re good.”

His fingers close the space between their mouths and reach for hers. “Bound, bonding, biting into your skin,” his murmur chills her, “wishing you could touch me, but not letting you.”

The tone is curious, not fully comprehending, and there is a wonderful, wondering, glint in his eyes hidden beneath his hair.

Her throat means to give way to words, questions, perhaps a plea, but betrays her and out comes his name, spilling off her lips and shaking like the rest of her.

It is as if time itself halts and he is suddenly towering over her, shielding her from invisible gazes, and breathes life unto her anew.

“You want to be trained, to be taught all the things you know how to do, for rewards and prizes, presents, praise.” She isn’t sure whose words he’s speaking; they’re too practiced to be her own thoughts but too similar to be just his own and it’s simply not possible for such debauched things to cross his mind, it simply can’t be–

“My name.”

It’s ages before she realizes he’s said anything at all. She blinks the stars out of her eyes. “What?”

The grip she didn’t know he had on her arm tightens, just a bit. Just enough. “Say my name. You want to say my name.”

She shrinks. “Cole.”

It’s a whisper no heavier than their breath but all at once his muscles tighten, visibly. There are fireflies under his skin, rising from their slumber. “Say my name.”

“Cole.”

It’s a fraction louder, more confident, and with it comes more of its like, repeating his name like a chant, a spell. It makes him real.

His stare grounds her and her nails find safety in the fabric of his clothes, the scent of earth ever so faintly surrounding her.

“You want to hurt, but not really, torture melting into touch, tantalizing, tempting, too much to bear. Biting, binding, it’s burning, burning you, a bitch in heat.”

“Cole.”

She is shaking against him, clutching at his warmth. A silent prayer.

“I can help.”


	3. Chapter 3

She leaves honey on his tongue, a tang in her taste he savors for as long as he can. Pleas and pleases bubble out of her mouth when he speaks to her, through her, but neither of them can understand.

There’s fire in her veins, flames under her skin. He drinks her heat, each kiss drawing it from her and settling in his mouth to swallow, scorching his throat and quenching it all the same.

He kneels into the wooden floor by her bed and still has to duck to reach her spread thighs and keep them firmly settled into the blankets. Her small fingers scrabble to find his, shaking, shuddering under his touch and settling instead with and into his hair, charmingly tussled and knotted around her knuckles.

His tongue lies flat against her, almost at the peak of entering, and he hums and she keens, arches into him. He pulls back, just to breathe, just to leave kisses and delicate nips where he can find unmarked skin.

“Sweet,” he whispers between gasps, “tart, tickling my teeth, like wine going to my head.” 

He licks his lips and his Adam’s apple bobs, his pulse is nearing audible and there is a visible shake in his form. 

“Want it, need to have more, giving to take.”

She feels like roses and she blooms with his touches, and she curls into herself like a drying flower just to fold into his fingers. For all that she burns her flavor is refreshing, coating his tongue in cherries and citrus he can’t name; even her scent is filling his mind with cotton and it takes all that he is to not drown in her.

Precise and pinpointed he tastes where she is most sensitive, knowing where is best only by her voice, the way she sings for him, and touches where his mouth cannot reach and covers her body in caresses he knows overwhelm her—it isn’t bad, not being able to think and just feel. He learned that. The way she curves just for him, and cries without tears. He decided he liked that.

Hips bucking while being held, he blankets her in touch, with comforting strokes of his fingers, sharp suckling, and ravishes her, relishing her entirety. He kisses her again, wholly, and she melts and sparks and breathes all anew. Only when she has softened to him again does he pull away from her skin, licking his lips covered with her and swallows. She only hears her words on his mouth:

“More.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Is The Worst Chapter By Far

**Author's Note:**

> This is purely the result of talking about shameless Colemance smut with my dear friend Ghosty and she made me post this. I want to be more shameless and write more Colemance smut. I am sorry.


End file.
